


The Treason of Beregond

by Altariel



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-28 06:32:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15701769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Altariel/pseuds/Altariel
Summary: What moved Beregond to act as he did?





	The Treason of Beregond

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Thyme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thyme/gifts).



**The Treason of Beregond**

_For Thyme_

When he thought back, he saw that there hadn’t been anything in particular that the young lord had done to inspire this devotion. They were about the same age, that was true – maybe the Lord Faramir was a year or two older – but they had hardly been childhood friends or accomplices. Their worlds were circles away. When the day’s duties were done, Beregond went gladly home – first to his mother, then to his wife, then to their own little family. As for Lord Faramir? Well, who knew how these nobles lived?

Most of their encounters were in corridors and passageways. The lord’s son, on his way in and out to see their master; the guard waiting for his summons. Once, Lord Faramir, coming out through the door at speed, his father still fulminating behind him, caught Beregond’s eye, and winked, and said, “You’re wanted. Rather you than me.” He always received and returned the salute. Always gave a smile that became more tired as the years dragged on but was never once missed. Even that very last time, on his way to the river – he caught Beregond’s eye, and smiled, and patted him on the shoulder, and said, “Brave heart.”

Beregond had loved the Lord Boromir too – well, who couldn’t love the Captain-General? You felt your spirits lift when he walked past. You felt that anything could be done, could be made to be done, if the Lord Boromir put his strength and his will behind it, and didn’t that help in days like these? But you were not cut from that cloth. The Lord Faramir – well, there was something about him, wasn’t there? Maybe it was because he knew what it was like to be down the pecking order. You felt that he might know what things were like for you. For people who weren’t lords. Once, when talking about the brothers with his fellows in the mess, Beregond put his finger on the difference between them. You’d follow the Captain-General to battle, yes, and you’d cheer as you went. But you’d follow the Captain to Mandos.

As for the Lord of Gondor himself – well, you didn’t love him exactly, did you? You jumped to. You knew he didn’t miss anything. You were glad he was on _your_ side. He looked older than he should, but who wouldn’t in his situation? And you couldn’t quite shake the feeling that ever since the Captain-General had gone that he wasn’t quite himself. And the broken horn arrived, and seeing his face then, you were for one split second very frightened, as if something in your Lord had broken beyond repair. But it was quickly masked, and you could persuade yourself you hadn’t seen it. That he was still in command of himself.

And then he wasn’t in command of himself. He wasn’t in command of anything at all. You stood and watched him crumble, sitting by his son as his son burned up like tinder, and still he wouldn’t let anyone go near him, and you thought, _This isn’t right. There should be medicine… Why isn’t anyone doing anything?_ But you were sent away, to your post, and it wasn’t your place…

And there you stood, silent sentinel, in the madness of the last hours of the siege, not quite sure where the orders were coming from, and trying your best to work out what needed to be done, and then suddenly you heard the soft _pitter-patter_ of small feet and the Halfling was there, telling you a tale that nearly broke your heart and you thought, _There’s nobody else to do anything about this, is there?_ But you weren’t supposed to leave your post…

Before you knew it, you were sprinting down to the Silent Street, stumbling over steps. Weeping, you forced your way past the doorman, killed him – _oh Mandos, forgive me –_ and you saw the torches and – _oh L_ _órien, may I never see this in my dreams_ – the _oil_ and then after everything else – _oh Nienna, sweet mother of mercy, take pity on us in this darkness_ – there was a _knife_ … And you put yourself between the madness of your lord and the body of your captain, because if the Lord Faramir died, then there was nothing left to fight for, because the best of Gondor would be gone…

***

_Altariel, 16 th August 2018_


End file.
